The Age of Dragons
by The Pineapple Express
Summary: The year is 201 of the Fourth Era. Long has it been since the Septim dynasty fell, and Tamriel has been consumed by chaos. The Empire is a shadow of what it once was; struggling against the might of the Aldmeri Dominion. Skyrim is now torn in a bloody war between it's own people. Now Helgen has been burnt by unknown forces. Little do people know what will come now. And it is fire.
1. Prologue

A/N: Hello there. My name is The Pineapple Express and this is basically my first shot at fan fiction. "The Age of Dragons" is my shot at portraying a more grittier and story driven version of TES V. While I do like the game a lot, I felt it's writing is a very weak point. I want to essentially rewrite the Main Quest of Skyrim, along with a few other questlines, to deliver a more immersive experience. This will be a lot different from most fan fics (Or at least the ones I've read) set in the TES universe. I felt a lot ES fan fics are essentially just some guy's playthrough that he just written down. There's nothing with that in my opinion, but I want to do something more than that.

Also, this fan fic will be AU on a lot of levels. I will not say how as to prevent spoilers, but any deviations from the vanilla will be intentional. A lot things will be added into it and some things in the game I find really stupid will either be removed or changed heavily.

But what else should you expect? Well expect a more grittier portrayal of the Skyrim Civil War that will have more depth to it. Expect a more terrifying portrayal of dragons, especially Alduin. Expect a larger scale focus. Expect a ton of political intrigue of not only the Stormcloaks and the Imperials, but other political entities across Tamriel. Yada yada.

Any reviews, positive or negative, will be greatly appreciated!

* * *

"Skagnolf, wake up." Said a familiar voice. The middle-aged nord quickly woke up to find himself in a horse-drawn cage. There must have been at least two dozen people crammed inside it as the driver, wearing an all too familiar segmented armor, rode it along with at least a few dozen other caged carriages. Surrounding this convoy were at least a hundred horsemen, also wearing the same segmented armor as the carriage driver but in boiled leather.

Skagnolf looked at the source of the voice calling him to find his old friend Ralof. Ralof was a youthful nord hailing from a small village far away.

"Ralof." Said Skagnolf. "What in Shor happened?"

Ralof sighed deeply. He looks defeated. "We have lost." He said. His defeated tone quickly turned into anger. "When it looked like we were beating those falkreath bastards, the Imperials came out of nowhere and flanked us."

Skagnolf knew that part. The combined forces of Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak and Jarl Laila Lawgiver outnumbered the Falkreath forces, led by Thane Sulgar Oak-Shaper. But two full legions of the Imperials somehow remained hidden before and during much of the battle. Skagnolf himself got lost in the midst, trying to rally some of the men before he was knocked out. He patted Ralof on the shoulder. "We have lost many… Did we?" Said Skagnolf.

Ralof barely kept his cool. "Most of us Eastmarch folk were slain. We've all would have been butchered if Jarl Ulfric didn't surrender. The Jarl is all alone at the front caravan. He's all chained up and his mouth covered. I think Jarl Laila escaped but a lot of them Rift folk were slain as well, not as much as us though."

"It's only the beginning." Interrupted a voice from an elder nord. That same nord, who looks to be in his sixties with grey balding hair, looked coldly at Ralof and Skagnolf. "I don't know where they are taking us" Said the old man. "But wherever it is will be a grim end for us all."

A younger nordic woman spoke. "This can't be the end!" She shouted with fire.

"Are you denying death girl?" the old man retorted.

"You underestimate Ulfric Stormcloak." Replied the woman. "He himself has The Voice. He…"

"His voice did not help him win the battle girl." Interrupted the old man.

The woman's face began to boil. "Then why did you join this fight?" She asks.

The old man merely laughed. "You're an idealist aren't ya? Comes with your youth I guess." He eyed her. "I joined because I want to fight somethin. I don't care who's the fuckin High King. All I care about is killing my way to Sovngarde.

The two began arguing for what felt like hours to Skagnolf. Personally he finds both the elder and the woman irritating. Whoever the old man is, something is wrong with him. And the woman is too damn naïve for her own good.

"Shut up back there!" the carriage driver shouted.

 _Even the driver got sick of them._ Skagnolf said. The two then finally have stop.

The old man however starts eyeing Skagnolf. "You there. What's your name?"

Skagnolf is confused on why the man wants to know that. "Skagnolf." He said.

The old man nodded. "Colnjar." He said. "We ought to know each other's names before they kill us all."

 _Not this again._ Thought Skagnolf. "And how are you so sure?" He asks.

Colnjar chuckles slightly. "They will want to make an example of us." His face turned bitter. "But they will surely not grant us the honor of going to Sovngarde. They will give us an unworthy death. Shor will not welcome us to his halls." He then turned to Ralof. "Your name lad?"

Ralof grunted. "Ralof. Ralof of Riverwood."

Colnjar nodded before looking at the woman he argued with earlier. "Your name girl?" He asked. "Ysella" She angrily replied.

Colnjar then asks every single bastard in the cage their names. Skagnolf sighs as he looks out of his cage and sees the beautiful white trees of the Rift. Wherever the Imperials are taking them, it's going to be a long trip.

* * *

General Metiros Tullius observed the fortress of Helgen from the distance. It is the the Twenty-Eighth of Last Seed. It had been fifteen days since the Battle of Darkwater Crossing. This rebellion caused by Jarl Ulfric has been going on for a year. Now today it will finally end. General Tullius had been sent to this frozen shithole known as Skyrim by the Emperor himself because his predecessor proved to be too incompetent to contain the rebellion at its infancy. This whole mess started when Jarl Ulfric murdered High King Torygg Windcaller. He somehow escaped the province's capital known as Solitude and declared rebellion in the ancient city of Windhelm. He wishes to become High King. Torygg, with no heirs, left his throne to his wife Elisif. And that is the foundation of her claims for High Queen. Ulfric's claim is "legitimate" only because of bizarre nordic tradition. Because Ulfric claimed to kill Torygg in a duel. And as is their tradition, one who kills a king becomes a king. _Such utter bullshit_ thought Tullius. Just because you can kill a lord does not mean you should be king. Plenty of good fighters in history had proven to be incompetent rulers. But it seems the nords don't understand this. Of course, there is more to this rebellion; especially matters of religion.

The general shook his head. The past four months had given him a huge headache thanks to the rebels' resilience and the failures of his predecessor. While having only one single legion and a dead king to start with is a huge setback. this person, known as General Martimus Axigius, had a shot of defeating Ulfric at Eastmarch. Yet he sustained heavy casualties and encouraged many of the nordic nobility to support Ulfric's claim. Much of the year the Fourth Legion and the Imperial loyalists were pushed back until Tullius took command and relieved Martimus of his duties. Tullius, with the help of three fresh Legions from Cyrodiil, had quickly changed the tide, causing a statemate for three months until he had conscripted enough men in Falkreath Hold to invade the Rift a month ago. This leads to today, the end of the rebellion. Tullius now hopes he can return home now but that is unlikely. He may have to ensure no further civil unrest happens after today.

The convoy catched up to him, as he was further away. He looked at the so called "usurper" that threatened the Emperor's peace. He is chained to all corners of his cage. And his mouth is covered in a steel mask due to his abilities to literally shout people to death. "The Thu'ume" Legate Rikke had called it. The general now rode in front of the convoy. Not long until the convoy finally arrived at Helgen's gates. The town belongs to Thane Oak-Shaper, who is still fighting in the Rift. And it's the closest Imperial settlement from Darkwater Crossing.

A messenger came out, wearing the dark gold armor of Falkreath soldiers. "General Tullius" he said in a thick nordic accent. "Preparations has been made. But an envoy from the Dominion embassy has just arrived today."

Tullius shuddered at the mention of the Dominion. "Very well. I will deal with this envoy." He motioned for the convoy to enter the town.

* * *

Skagnolf is quiet. After fifteen days, they seem to arrive to wherever they were going.

"We're at Helgen." said one of the Stormcloaks. Ralof merely nodded and smiled.

"Aye. I was here once before. On my way to join the fight. met a girl Yolga. Wonder if she still makes apple pie." He laughed.

"Sounds like you may have ploughed the bitch." Said Colnjar. "I would too. Need a good woman to comfort ya before ya go kill some bastards."

Ralof glanced at Colnjar in anger yet he did not reply. _Maybe that old bastard is right._ thought Skagnolf.

As the convoy travels through the town, more and more people stopped what they are doing and observe. Skagnolf notices many of them has a grim expression.

"This is not good at all." He said. "Aye" said Ralof.

"Then it's best we pray to the gods Ulfric has something in mind." Said Ysella, who had been oddly silent this whole journey. Skagnolf looked out of the cage again to see a father forcing his children into their house. _This won't end well._

They arrive at an open yard right outside the town's longhouse, which serves as the Thane's house and has a tower next to it. Said tower is a barracks for the Thane's men. There is a massive gallow with twenty ropes aligned next to one another.

"I was right after all." Said Colnjar. "A grim end awaits us all."

Then there are around 18 strange tall people sitting on large bipedal birds. All of them save for one wore white eloquent looking armor. Though one wore dark black robes with small trims of gold. "Must be the Dominion" Said Ralof. "Maybe those bastards have something to do with it."

* * *

General Tullius halted his horse when he saw the Dominion envoy. "Here we go again." he muttered. He treaded his black stallion towards the envoy. The leader of the group slowly moved towards Tullius as well. He pulled his hood down to reveal a golden face with yellow ears as sharp as a knife.

"General Tullius." He said in a spitefully lilting voice. "I've been waiting for you. Good that we both arrived this day." He smirked.

Tullius grew irritated by the altmer's pompous tone. "Get to it. What are you here for?" He asked.

The altmer continued to smirk. "Straight to the points is it? No matter. What I am here for has much to do with your plan for Jarl Ulfric..."

The general shuddered. How did he found out? The general had planned to execute Ulfric when he captured him. Technically, he was supposed to send him to the Imperial City for trial, but Tullius feared doing so would have Ulfric break free from certain parties. Especially the Thalmor, the leading order of the Aldmeri Dominion. Tullius believes they have been trying to cause as much instability to the Empire as possible. Jarl Ulfric living would only further said instability. Ulfric must be killed as soon as possible. Ideally, he would liked to kill him back at Darkwater Crossing, but he needed witnesses to prove he is gone. Helgen was the closest settlement loyal to the Empire. And so Tullius chose this town as the grounds of Ulfric's death.

"What happens to Ulfric today is not your concern." He replied sternly. He already knows what the altmer is here to do.

"You are right." said the altmer. "But I suggest for the sake of peace, you ought to listen to what I have to say."

 _Is this bastard threatening war over Ulfric?_ thought Tullius. "Speak" He said.

"Hand Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak over to me." He said. "During his brief rebellion, he had caused certain damage against the Aldmeri Dominion. And so he has violated the White-Gold Concordat. For that reason, the Dominion desires to punish him ourselves." the altmer looked at the gallows. "Besides, killing the fool would only make a martyr out of him. The instability in the province would only get worse. We will take care of him... subtlety."

Tullius did not even considered it. He has Ulfric and he will not risk him being set free by anyone. "No. Ulfric has committed high treason against the very empire he swore to serve. He even served in the Legion once. His crimes against the Empire, against his own people, are worse than whatever petty action he took against the Dominion. Ulfric Stormcloak is to die today here in Helgan."

the altmer sneered at Tullius. "You have made a mistake general Tullius."

"I am free to make this decision. It does not violate the Concordat." Tullius retorted.

The altmer did not respond and rode off. _Good riddance._ he thought.

"Sir. Are we ready to begin?" Asked an Imperial officer.

Tullius nodded and motioned his men to get the prisoners off their carriages. As the men were doing that, they binded the rebels in chains in order to make the executions more "orderly". He got off of his horse and walked onto the gallows. All of the Town's people had gathered. the only thing separating them from the prisoners were the town guard. The Imperial century that escorted them stood behind the guard, watching over the prisoners. Archers were on the surrounding buildings. Escaping would be futile. The general rose his hand to silence all chatter and spoke with great authority. But he always hated speeches.

"People of Helgen! These men before you are traitors to the Empire! And the worst among them is Ulfric Stormcloak himself!" The crown instantly booed, many throwing things at the prisoners. Shouting insults at them until Tullius motioned them to be silent.

"Jarl Stormcloak is nothing but a usurper. He plotted to kill his king and succeeded. Yet he plotted to take his liege's spot, rightfully claimed by his wife! He plotted to split Skyrim from an Empire he swore sacredly to protect! But now he has failed!" The crowd cheered.

Tullius looked at Ulfric, who bravely stood in front of his men, staring straight at Tullius with no seeming fear. At least he is no coward. "Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak. You stand guilty of High Treason. You devolved Skyrim into chaos. you are responsible for the deaths of thousands! And today you will pay for your crimes! Watch as all of your men will be hanged! You will learn the consequences of your mistake! And then you shall pay the price yourself!

* * *

The crowd roared in approval. The sight of all this sickens Skagnolf. How these people support an Emperor so far he might as well be on the moons amazes him. Yet is now truly the end. But while he may die today, he will die in whatever dignity he has left. Colnjar was the first to stepped on the gallows. He even tightened the loose on his neck himself. A few followed through but when there 14 more spots on the gallow to be filled, the Imperials came to the prisoners and forced the rest to fill up. Some didn't resist, others did with no prevail. The rest couldn't help as they were blocked by more soldiers. It was not long before the nooses were tightened and all twenty were let go.

It took a while for the bodies to be cleared and more rope to be noosed. It seems they did this on purpose. Or so Skagnolf felt. More soldiers came to get more prisoners to hang. Skagnolf volunteered and went up the gallows. The hangman placed the noose on him as he waited for his death. Skagnolf never thought it would end this way. He hoped if he died in this war, it would be through battle. Not this. A part of him was nervous and scared. But he would not cower. Not in front of Jarl Ulfric.

When the next twenty hangings were ready, the Earth suddenly shook like madness The crowd grew terrified. Then fire started raining all over the town. Many people were instantly burned. When Skagnolf was about to get his noose off, he felt the gallow shake heavily, as if warped by some vortex, and began collapsing on the ground. It all went black.


	2. Arc One: The Beginning

A/N: Hey there! Finally got chapter one in. Forgive me for any spelling and grammar mistakes. I was kind of too eager to post this chapter. I will find any I see and correct them but if you noticed any feel free to let me know.

As for the chapter itself, it may feel that nothing really happened plotwise, but that was intentional. I will spend the first few chapters introducing most of the POV characters and write the exposition. After that, the story will progress.

Also I have a basic idea how to organize the plot. Without spoiling, let's say there's four overall arcs in the story. The first one will basically cover the beginning parts of the Dragonborn's (And of the POV characters could be him at this point.) as well as setting the basis for the other parts of the story. (Essentially, the dragonborn story won't be the only important thing going on.) And expect a new chapter around once a week. Though there may be occasions it will take longer than that but that will be my goal.

Lastly, any reviews and feedback, positive or negative, is well appreciated.

* * *

The Twenty-Eight of Last Seed

Hallgvir slowly moved towards a stag blissfully unaware of him. He was crouched, using the flora of the forest to his advantage. For a few hours he stalked this same stag, waiting for his chance. The animal faced away from Hallgvir as it ate a leaf off a twig. Hallgvir was careful not to step on any twigs or do anything to alter his prey. When he got close enough, he drew his bow, mumbled a quick prayer to Kyne, he drew an arrow and pulled it onto the bow before he released it. It quickly hit the stag in the thigh but did not killed it. It yelped and ran as far as it could away from Hallgvir.

"Damnit." he muttered as he walked towards the direction his prey went. He did not need to run after it. The stag left a trail of blood. It would bleed out eventually. While he was walking, he took time to look around the massive forest, where an endless sea of trees surrounded him. _"Beautiful"_ he thought.

He continued to track his prey from the blood-trail. After a while, he could faintly hear the stag in pain. He crouched again and slowly moved towards the sound's source. He eventually found the stag, alive, limping. Hallgvir once again drew his bow, muttered another prayer to Kyne as he released an arrow, hitting the stag on its right side of its ribs. It did not go down to Hallgvir's amazement. It ran away, if slower than last time. Once again the hunter walked where the trail lead.

It would take around ten minutes before Hallgvir caught up with the stag. It was laying on the ground in seeming pain, yet still lives.

"How are you still alive?" He asked. He got closer to the stag, it could not get up. It looked at Hallgvir in his eyes. It was like in pity. Hallgvir felt guilt somewhere, and placed one more arrow to the stag's head to end his misery. He muttered another prayer to Kynne. He opened a leather bag, pulled out a butcher's knife, and began skinning the animal's corpse...

* * *

Twenty-Eight of Last Seed, Helgen.

"Skagnolf!" Shouted an almost distant voice. "Skagnolf! Wake up! Get you're ginger ass up! You're not dying today!"

Skagnolf slowly regained his conscious and woke up to find himself in some building. It was crowded with his fellow Stormcloaks, many of whom were wounded in various degrees. Ralof was right by him. "Called me a ginger ya little shit?" He said. He eyed Ralof before they both chuckled.

"Now's not the time for laughter" Said a deep voice that spoke with a sense of stoic authority. Skagnolf woke up to find Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak standing over him; free from the bindings the Imperials forced on him. he wore an armor made from a bear and appeared to be massive, even for a Nord. Skagnolf immediately crossed his arms on his chest, a nordic way to salute or honor someone.

"It is an honor My Jarl." he said. "If only we met at better circumstances." He got up slowly; he still felt pain from falling from the gallow. "But what in the name of Shor happened" he after all, did not see what caused all of this.

The Jarl looked at Skagnolf for a second, his face appeared stoic.

"A beast of the sky fell upon Helgen and burned the town to the ground. It's still here, burning anything it can see. It's why we're stuck in this damn tower."

"Not just a beast my Jarl" said a Stormcloak that looked even older than Colnjar. "it's a dragon. My pap told me of the stories."

"Why would there be a dragon?" asked Ralof. "They haven't been seen since the days of Talos."

"Did they even existed?" said a Stormcloak that looked like he was still in his teens.

"Such ignorance. said the old Stormcloak. "They are not myths. They are legends. The very legends that shaped us as a people."

Ulfric looked sharply at the old man. "Legends don't burn down villages" he said. He looked around all of the people in the tower. "Arguing about dragons will not get us out of this shithole. What we ought to do is get out of this forsaken place when we get a chance. Our best chance would be waiting for whatever this beast, dragon or not, leave. We will make our escape then."

"My Jarl" Said Ysella; seemingly coming out of nowhere. "We should leave now while the Imperials are still distracted. If leave after that thing leaves, we may have to deal with those bastards."

Ulfric walked right to her, sternly eyeing her. His face did not give amusement.

"I'd much rather deal with them than the beast" he said. "Leave now and we'll get noticed by the dragon. We're too large a group to avoid detection. When this is all over, Helgen's garrison will either be annihilated or too weak to stop us. As long as this tower does not collapse on us, waiting is our best choice."

Ysella had a strange and nervous look on her face. "But..."

Ulfric snapped. "There is no debate." He did not yell, but his point was made clear to them all.

Skagnolf was amused Ysella would did what she done. Especially coming from the same girl that was avidly supportive of Jarl Ulfric. Nevertheless, no one else dared to question Ulfric. Skagnolf waited as he heard the violent roar of the dragon descends on the village, continuing burning everything in it's path. He prayed to the gods it doesn't attack the tower.

* * *

Twenty-Eight of Last Seed.

Hallgvir rode his white horse onto the nearby village. What was left of his stag was within a bag strapped onto the horse. The village, known as Riverwood, only had about a hundred inhabitants as far as Hallgvir knew. Strangely it was surrounded by a wall despite being a mere village. It sat along the White River; which flowed through the eastern half of Whiterun Hold. Hallgvir continued through the gates and trotted through Riverwood until he found what he was looking for: a butcher's shop with the imaginary name of "Elnof's Meat." Hallgvir was amused and chuckled. _How clever._ he thought. He dismounted his horse and grabbed the bag of stag meat from the saddle before walking into the store. Inside were piece of meat from all kinds of animals native to this region of Skyrim. Some were cooked, others yet to be cooked. There is even a body of a deer; waiting to be butchered.

As he walked in, a rather frail nord at the counter immediately turned.

"Good evening to you!" he said. He then looked at Hallgvir for a second. "Hallfvir? By Shor it's been a while!"

Hallgvir nodded. "Indeed Elnof. And you still kept the name to your store."

Elnof slightly grinned. "I don't need an original name Hallgvir. If it ain't broke don't fix it."

Hallgvir nodded again. "Fair point." he said. Arguin about the name of a building was never worth the time to him. "Regardless it's been a while. Haven't been here because the spring and summer was nice and plenty of game to be had. But atlas, summer is no longer. Winter is coming and I ought to be prepared.

Elnof looked at Hallgvir almost cockeyed. "It's still Last Seed Hallgvir."

Hallgvir looked eyed Elnof. _Is he serious?_ "The last days of summer then. It does not matter." He placed the bag on the butcher's counter cattle released it of its contents. "This is a stag or what's left of it. I settled myself with enough rabbits to feed my family for the day. But I'm willing to sell you all this meat. Should be enough to feed a whole family for a day. Maybe even two."

Elnof looked at the meat for a minute contemplating. "Twenty septims."

Hallgvir's eyes were wide open. _Is this damn fool out of his mind?_ he thought. _Bastard is trying to rip me off._ "The stag is worth way more than that Elnof. Sixty Septims."

Elnof looked susiciously at Hallgvir. "Fine, thirty."

Hallgvir was still not impressed. "Sixty." he restated.

Elnof looked rather impatient. "Thirty Five."

 _That was barely an improvement._ Hallgvir thought. "I'll compromise for you; Fifty septims."

Elnof grew more anxious. "How about Forty?" He asked.

Hallgivr shook his head. He will lower the price one last time. "Forty Five septims. You can take it or I'll find somewhere else to sell this. Or maybe I'll use the food for myself then."

it looked like Elnof gave in to the pressure. "Fine. Forty Five septims." He grabbed and counted gold pieces of silver and copper with the apparent face of the Tiber Septim, founder of the Septim empire, and placed it in a leather bag.

Hallgvir grabbed the bag. "Nice doing business with you. I'll come back with something better next week. With that he left the butcher's shop.

* * *

Twenty-Eight of Last Seed, Helgen

Metiros Tullius stood in the Thane's courtyard rallying as much men as possible while what's left of the town frantically rushing to the barracks. The situation became hectic. One moment, the end to the rebellion was in sight. Now, chaos. Complete chaos. This monster that came from the sky had essentially destroyed Helgen. Tullius had seen the burnt corpses of both soldier and civilian alike. And the vile beast is not even done. Archers tried to shoot it with arrows to no avail. The few mages Metiros had could not bring it down with their magic. The infantry were practically useless; so they were ordered to protect the town's people. Or what were left of them.

The beast flew around the burning remains of Helgen. it was like it was flaunting its victory. To Metiros' horror it flew down right at the courtyard and landed. Some of his men broke and cowered into the barracks. Those who remained Frantically attacked the beast; which did not seemed affected at all. In fact, it laughed. _It laughed. t_ he general thought in horror. It then literally spoke in a language Metiros never even heard off before in a menacing and taunting tone. It shouted in that same tongue and fire bursted out of its mouth; incinerating almost all in its path. Metiros rushed towards the barracks. He barely got in and shut the door right as the fire poured onto it. Only Metiros and a few others had survived that encounter.

Metiros was truly shaken. _I almost died._ he thought. He had to quickly regain his composure however. He is a commander of the Imperial Legion. Breaking now would break whatever little morale the soldiers had. The beast continued to roar as the ground shaked and the building felt like it could collapse at any moment.

"Commander Tullius." Said a an odd accent that was a fusion of Colovian and Nordic; typical of the Falkreath tone. Metiros turned to see a tall bald nord. "Name's Rorlou. I command Helgen's garrison. Or so I used to. A shame we must meet like this.

Metiros nodded. _Indeed it is._ "This beast is not to be trifled with." He said. "I heard it spoke. Whatever it is, it's clearly intelligent. We must warn Solitude but unfortunately we are stuck."

Rorlou slightly smirked at Metiros. "Not so commander" he said. "There is a escape route through the building. Through the dungeons. It will lead us through a cave and we'll be a good distance away from the monster. The gods have blessed us today."

Metiros felt a great sense of relief. Suddenly, parts of the ceiling collapsed from the monster's bombardment. He looked at Rorlou. "What are you waiting for? Get all the survivors ready and let's get the fuck out of here before this whole place collapses on us."

Rorlou merely nodded and walked away. "But sir" said an Imperial soldier. "What about other survivors outside?"

Metiros looked at the soldier, whom looked rather young. "Chances are, everyone that didn't made it here is dead." He said. "Even if some out there still lives. It's not worth risking more lives."

The soldier had a grim and sorrowful expression. "Yes sir." and walked to the escape route. Metiros sighed for what happened today. _If Ulfric survived this, this war will continue. And if more of these things are out there, then this wasteland is truly doomed._ He walked towards the escape route.

* * *

Twenty-Ninth of Last Seed, 4E 201.

Hallgvir's horse trotted towards a cabin in the woods; Riverwood would only been a mile away from here. _Home sweet home_. thought Hallgvir. He had spent the night at Riverwood. During that span, he had spent Twenty of the Forty-Five septims he haggled on the tavern. To say he was hungover would be a huge understatement. _Karlith won't like this one bit._ He stumbled off of his horse and fell on his face. He got up and slugged his way towards the door; opening it and collapsing his way onto the floor.

"Hallgvir!" shouted a feminine voice in the White-Plain accent. Hallgvir looked up to see his own wife, Karlith, looking at him in utter confusion.

Hallgvir slowly got up. If she found out he spent money on a tavern, she would be furious. _Best make a good lie fast if she get suspicous._ "Karlith, the past two days have been very tiresome for me. Can I rest?" He plotted down on a queen-sized bed settled across from the door.

However, Karlith looked sternly at Hallgvir. "Your breath smells like goat piss." she said. "You have been drinking have you?"

Hallgivr turned sideways, facing away from Karlith. He silently cursed himself. "What kind of nord doesn't drink?"

Karlith only moved right to Hallgvir's front; and looked straight at his eyes. "Perhaps wasting septims on drinking when we need to save on them is a very bad idea." she said in a bitter sounding tone.

 _Now I need to think of one quick._ Hallgvir thought. In a second he found his excuse. He rolled his eyes at Karlith. "I didn't waste my own money on drinking my dear Karlith." he said. "My good friend Alvor was glad to see me. It's been a while. All the drinks were on him."

Karlith's face still had a suspicious expression. "You were gone two days. I'm sure if you didn't spend the money you have it with you right now..."

Hallgvir sighed as he lazily got up on the bed. He opened his traveling pack to reveal the bag of septims. "Only twenty-five Septims." He tossed the bag to Karlith who caught with ease. "There wasn't much game. Seems as summer ends, the creatures become less common. Maybe they're getting ready for winter as well?" he said while giving a slight chuckle.

Karlith still looked suspicious, but she seemed to finally give in. "Ok." she said in a distrustful tone. "I'll get supper ready."

* * *

 _The Twenty-Ninth of Last Seed, Helgen._

Corvus Sendo woke up to find himself trapped in burnt wood and rubble. He felt soreness all over his body as he struggled to push the debris off of him. After what felt like minutes, he heard someone running towards him and one by one, the pieces of the debris that imprisoned him were removed. the man that freed him was a Imperial Legionnaire much like Corvus. Though unlike Corvus, the person was a nord, likely native to Skyrim. His comrade offered him his hand. Malaxius did not hesitate to grab onto it and get off the ground.

"Your name?" Corvus asked.

The nord looked at Corvus with a face that seen too much. "Hadvar." he replied.

"Corvus" he replied. Corvus then looked around him. Helgen was utterly destroyed by that beast from the sky. _By the gods._ Corvus thought. luckily whatever that thing was, was gone.

"It left a while ago" said Hadvar. "It went North."

Corvus felt uneasy. _If the thing is still alive_ "I don't know what that monster is, but it just killed an entire village. It needs to be killed before it burns more people.

Hadvar's expressions grew more dark. "You don't know what is do you Corvus? I've read the stories. From the tales of Ysgramor to the days of Talos, that was a dragon."

 _A dragon?_ Corvus thought. They haven't been seen since the dawn of the Third Era. "They haven't been seen since centuries. If that's really a dragon, where has it been hiding? Why?"

Hadvar looked to be in utter confusion. "That I do not know."

 _No shit._ thought Corvus. "I suppose it doesn't matter now. What matters now is sending out a warning. Did you find any survivors?"

Hadvar shooked his head sideways. "I've searched the ruins. No one alive besides us. I didn't see Ulfric Stormcloak's corpse so I'm guessing he's alive. Same for General Tullius."

"Good" replied Corvus. Even if Ulfric is among the survivors, having a common threat may knock some sense into him. "We should head to Falkreath and warn Jarl Siddgeir. That should be a good start."

Hadvar looked at Corvus with disapproval. "No. With something as dire as dragons returning coming, then we need to go North to Solitude and warn the Imperial command there."

Corvus disagreed with this. "No. Solitude is too far from here. Will take at least two months on safe travel with a couple of horse. But we have no horses and Stormcloaks and brigands surely stalk the roads to the capital. If we even make it there, it could take months."

"Then we'll find some horses." replied Hadvar. "Plenty throughout Skyrim. And what makes you think the road to Falkreath is any safer?"

 _Now's not a good time to argue._ thought Corvus. "Are you ignoring that Solitude is farther away than Falkreath. The road there may not be safe as well; but going there means we can warn people of a dragon quicker."

"We can still warn people on the way to the capital" retorted Hadvar.

"The fucking dragon flew north!" shouted Corvus. "It didn't flew West! People up North will see the beast. That's why Jarl Siddgeir will be oblivious unless someone tells him what truly happened."

Hadvar's became more and more frantic. "But what if he doesn't believe us?"

Corvus grew more suspicious. _He sounds desperate to go North. Why?_ His expression grew cold and hard. "Hadvar. Why do you truly want to go to Solitude?" he asked sternly.

Hadvar began to sweat. "I think it's better to inform the command rather than Jarl Sidd..."

"Bullshit." snapped Corvus. He could tell from his face he's lying. "Why do you want to to Solitude?"

It seemed Hadvar cracked. "My... My home is North of here. The same direction the dragon went. Before I was conscripted to the Legion, I lived in a village around The White Hold and Falkreath's border. I fear the dragon may find it and burn it."

Hadvar may have said more but Corvus heard enough. "You swore a service to the Empire.." he said.

"I was conscripted!" shouted Hadvar. "I had no choice to fight my own kin! Unlike you cyrodiil!" He closed his eyes and sighed. "My home is all I know Corvus. I just want to go there. Warn them of the dragon. I just to see my family. It may be the last time I'll ever will..." Hadvar then stood silent, his head looking down.

Corvus could sympathise of Hadvar. While a legionnaire serves the Empire first and foremost, many of the Legion's masses have family back where they hailed. Corvus knew few of them may truly choose the Empire they serve over the ones they love.

"Fine." he said. "You can go to your home. But I will not come with you. Whether you will serve the Legion or desert is not my concern." He did not wait for Hadvar to respond. He turned and went for the town's gate and walked west. He now had a mission.


End file.
